


Blood For Blood

by Kita_the_Spaz



Series: Blood For Blood [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M, Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-23
Updated: 2012-10-31
Packaged: 2017-11-14 21:07:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kita_the_Spaz/pseuds/Kita_the_Spaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a noble is murdered and the blame falls on Iruka, trouble comes in spades and Iruka might have to take his life into his own hands. In a game of politics, assassination, and blame, there can be no winners, only those who get out of it with their lives.. and those who don't. Collaborative work with <a href="http://demondreams.livejournal.com">demondreams</a></p><p>This is slightly Alternate universe/timeline, diverging after the events of the timeskip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Blood sprayed in a satisfying pattern on the white screens of the guesthouse. It was almost a pretty contrast, the fan of white and red and pink bits of gore from where the blunted ceremonial sword had literally ripped bits of his throat away.

He watched coldly as the body slumped over, like a marionette with its strings cut. His rage had drained away, leaving only numbness behind in its place.

The heavy blade dropped to rest in a pool of spreading crimson, and numb fingers lost their grip on the object he had been clutching in his other hand. The metal plate on the headband clunked dully against the polished wood of the floor, sliding in the blood to rest next to the cooling body. Moonlight reflected off the engraved leaf symbol centered on the thin piece of metal.

Shaking, he broke and ran, hands stained with blood.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Iruka found his fingernails digging gouges in the wood of his desk at the memory of that insufferable, annoying, stuck-up, half-witted _prig_ who had graced the better part of his morning with his aggravating and none too welcome presence. Insufferable nobles, with more hair than brains. He’d been playing host to Makimura, the decidedly unpleasant heir to the Daimyo of the Land of Rice. Because of his high clearance and inoffensive manner, he had been chosen to escort the asshat around Konoha.

Makimura had let it be known that he was highly offended by being assigned a mere chuunin schoolteacher as his guide. And _let_ it be known. Loudly. And in no uncertain terms. By the end of the first hour, Anko and Genma, both of whom had been assigned as guards for the Daimyo’s party, had started taking bets on just how long Iruka’s rather infamous temper would stay under control.

He’d held onto control, tooth and nail, for far longer than they anticipated, but when Iruka’s considerable temper broke, it went with a vengeance. Iruka and the others had been escorting the now beyond insufferable Makimura to yet another restaurant, when a small girl from one of Iruka’s classes darted out to greet the chuunin, smiling brightly and offering a handful of bedraggled flowers to her teacher. “Iruka-sensei!”

She had brushed past Makimura in her rush to greet Iruka, and the Daimyo’s heir had flinched from her, kicking out with one of his embroidered slippers. “Get away from me, you filthy little wretch!”

If she had been a year older, and starting the taijutsu training that would be required, she could have dodged the blow. But she was still too young and uncoordinated to avoid the kick, and the force of it sent her sprawling into the dust of the road, her handful of tattered flowers flying everywhere. For an instant, the whole street had seemed to freeze while little Sora wailed, clutching her scraped knee and oblivious to the horse-cart trundling up behind her.

There had been no room to hesitate and less to think. Iruka had dived to scoop up the little girl and pull her away from the hooves of the frightened, eye-rolling horse. For a few minutes, everything had been utter confusion; the driver sawing madly on the reins to halt the horse, and Iruka ducking and rolling away from the rearing gelding. He’d felt a pawing hoof glance off his shoulder, but the pain was the least of his concerns. He’d staggered back to his feet, grateful when Anko’s supporting hand had materialized under his elbow to steady him. Iruka sighed and let the adrenaline drain away as the danger had passed.

Sora wailed and buried her head in his vest, and he had quite the time soothing her tears, but he had managed to coax a smile from her again after he’d deftly bandaged her knee. She was even giving him a teary giggle or two when Genma handed back his fallen hitai-ate. By this time, her frantic father had managed to make his way through the crowd, gratefully babbling thanks. Iruka handed her back with a smile. Only then, when the other young chuunin and his daughter had faded back into the crowd, did he turn on the young lord, with a plastic smile fixed firmly on his face. Genma and Anko had both shuddered at the look in his rich coffee-colored eyes and reached for their weapons.

He’d stalked up to the young lord, every muscle tense. “What the hell did you think you were doing? She was just a little girl!”

Makimura looked down his aquiline nose at the shorter man and had huffed impatiently. “She’s a peasant, and hardly worth the time and effort.” He said superciliously.

Iruka had seen red. He’d never been so furious in all his life as he was when he drew himself up to his full height and hissed viciously in Makimura’s arrogant face.

“Makimura-sama, I have been polite when you put me down for being a know-nothing schoolteacher, I said nothing when you degraded our Hokage’s reception and hospitality, and I deigned to look the other way when you insulted not only my friends here, but every single place we have taken you to…” His voice had risen as he pointed, first at Anko and Genma and then at the bustling marketplace around them. “But I will be damned if you lay a hand on another _defenseless child!_ ”

He’d stepped forward until he was nose to nose with the spoiled, petulant lord and glared at him, radiating spikes of angry chakra. He’d known he was giving off killing intent, but this whiny little shit deserved it for what he’d done. “You are a useless lump of wasted meat, and I will _personally_ see to it you never harm another child again, you arrogant, useless bastard!”

He knew he had overdone the killing rage when the acrid scent of urine seared his nostrils. The stupid prick had wet himself. Iruka had wrinkled his nose in distaste and stepped back from the fool. “Anko, Genma; would you be so kind as to escort the _lord here_ ,” There’d been no mistaking the disdain and contempt in his voice on the last two words. “—back to his guest quarters to clean up. He seems to have had a minor accident. I’m late for my shift at the mission room.” He’d turned away, but paused and looked back viciously. “Be assured that I will speak with Tsunade-sama about this and she’ll see to it that you receive a new guide for the remainder of your stay in Konoha, and I assure you, they will be far less congenial than I.”

Iruka had walked away, seething, and mentally reminded himself that he would see if Ibiki was up for giving the spoiled idiot a lovely tour of the torture and interrogation chambers.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was late when he finally left the mission room. (As usual, Kakashi-sensei had put off turning in his Mission Report until the _very_ last minute.) Iruka rolled his head to work a kink out of his neck and decided he was for a long soak in the bathtub and then bed. His shoulder was throbbing dully from the glancing blow the horse had given him this afternoon and he was bone-tired. He had no appetite for food, and thankfully, the mission room had been slow enough that he could get his grading done for Monday, when hopefully the daimyo and his entourage would be heading back to their Land.

He allowed himself a smile as he remembered the scathing report he’d given Tsunade on the brat’s behavior and his recommendation for his replacement. Tsunade had laughed and smiled behind her cup of tea and agreed that Makimura would indeed benefit from an instructive tour of Ibiki’s territory. Of course, by the time he had gotten back to the desk, news of his confrontation was all over the mission room and he had received several congratulatory slaps on the back by others who had been forced to deal with the idiot Makimura.

He was still smiling when he crawled into bed an hour or so later, after soaking the day’s irritations away. He settled back against his pillows with a sigh after rubbing liniment into the black and purple bruise gracing his shoulder. Makimura was no longer going to be his concern after tomorrow. He grinned and turned off the light.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Iruka woke abruptly, aware that he was not longer alone, and stopped his reflexive grab for his kunai when he recognized the bone-pale mask watching him in the dim light of pre-dawn. “ANBU-san.” He acknowledged; feeling bile burn in his throat as saw another masked ANBU behind the first, this one carrying special chakra-draining restraints.

“The Hokage demands your presence, Umino Iruka. You stand accused of the murder of Hanishi Makimura.”


	2. One: Accusations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a noble is murdered and the blame falls on Iruka, trouble comes in spades and Iruka might have to take his life into his own hands. In a game of politics, assassination, and blame, there can be no winners, only those who get out of it with their lives.. and those who don't. Collaborative work with [demondreams](http://demondreams.livejournal.com).
> 
> This is slightly Alternate universe/timeline, diverging after the events of the timeskip.

Iruka stood before Tsunade’s desk, feeling weighted down by far more than the heavy chakra cuffs on his wrists. 

“Do you understand the accusations that have been leveled against you, Umino-san?” Shizune said, her voice trembling with barely suppressed nervousness. Her dark eyes darted from Iruka to Tsunade and back again.

“I understand.” He replied quietly, resisting the urge to give her a comforting smile. Now wasn’t the time, not with the entire Daimyo’s entourage crowded into Tsunade’s public office.

“And how do you plead?” Tsunade asked, her hazel eyes hooded and dark.

“Not guilty, Hokage-sama.”

“ _Lies!_ You were seen threatening Makimura-sama!” Accused one of the Daimyo’s advisors, his sallow face flushed red with rage. “You threatened his life in public!”

Iruka kept his face straight, but Tsunade sent a quelling glare at the man. “I’ll only ask you once, Hanishi-sama, to keep your dogs on a leash. This is my village and my shinobi, and I’ll thank you to let me deal with him.”

The Daimyo silenced his man with a wave, but his gaze was hard and angry as he turned his attention back to Tsunade. “But you are still expected to provide the murderer of my son, Hokage-sama. I have heard from several witnesses that this man did indeed threaten Makimura in public.”

Iruka kept his teeth shut on a venomous reply, knowing he wouldn’t help his case by letting out his anger at the dead man.

“Proof is circumstantial, and at best, tainted, by the number of people at the crime scene before it was secured by Ibiki and the medical corps.” Shizune said, her fingers tightening around the papers she was holding. Iruka could see the strain in her features. “Until everything is taken into account, Umino-san remains innocent until his guilt can be proven to the Hokage’s satisfaction.”

“Be that as it may, Shizune,” Tsunade said quietly, her solemn eyes fixed on Iruka’s. “He must be kept under house arrest until this matter is resolved. He will be guarded by my best, Hanishi-sama, until such time as his innocence or guilt can be proven.” There was no mistaking the warning in her voice. _That means no attempts to kill Iruka-sensei before this mess is sorted out._ Iruka flinched at her tone, even though her anger wasn’t directed at him.

He stood stock-still while Shizune managed to herd the Daimyo’s party out of the office and into the public room beyond, his heart a lump of lead in his throat. When the door closed behind them, Tsunade nodded at the ANBU, waiting in the shadows behind the door. “Get those cuffs off of him.”

Iruka shivered as the serpent-masked ANBU unlocked the cuffs and removed them. His skin tingled as his chakra resumed its normal flow. “Hokage-sama?”

She waved him to a seat. “You say you didn’t kill him, and I believe you. However, Hanishi is not likely to do the same. You realize that I must enforce the house arrest?” Her voice had gone hard, and it was clear to see she was less than happy about things. 

“Yes, Tsunade-sama.”

Her eyes were kind as she turned to a second ANBU who had hidden his presence so well Iruka hadn’t even known he was there until the man moved. His crimson on white mask nodded as he stepped out of the shadows. “You’re not officially recalled to service, but I need you to play the part for the moment. I have to put Iruka-sensei someplace where he won’t be found by anyone wishing him harm.” 

“Understood, Hokage-sama.” Iruka thought the rich voice that sounded behind the mask was familiar. But with the black hood and emotionless mask, he had no way to identify who it might be.

“Are you willing to do this then?”

The masked head nodded and the ANBU knelt to Tsunade. “As my Hokage commands.”

Tsunade smiled and turned her attention back to Iruka. “I can’t leave you someplace as undefended as your apartment. Therefore you will be removed to the Hatake estate in the Northern sector. Until this is resolved, you will not leave the estate unless I call for you. You may have visitors.” A small smile graced her lips. “I doubt if I could keep your students from coming to visit you. You will be escorted to your apartment to pack up what you need, but I can allow you no weapons.”

Iruka just bowed his head, numb. When he had seen the ANBU in his room, he’d known that nothing would ever be the same again.

He held out his wrists for the ANBU to replace the cuffs, dully certain of the outcome. 

As Iruka was led out of the office, Tsunade frowned after him. It wasn’t like Sandaime’s favorite to be so docile. “Keep an eye on him.”

“I thought you believed in his innocence, Hokage-sama.” The masked man said neutrally.

“I do.” Tsunade turned her frown on him. “But I don’t like the look in his eye. It’s too fatalistic.” She picked up a folded paper and passed it to him. “I’m assigning this as your mission, so for the time being, you’re just as confined as he is. You don’t leave his side until this whole mess is under control. Understood?”

“Yes, Hokage-sama.”

Tsunade tipped her head as they both heard raised voices outside of her office. Tsunade rose and threw open the door to the reception room. Iruka had his back pressed to the wall, his brown eyes wide and bound hands held defensively in front of his chest. Shizune and the ANBU were holding back a small group of the Daimyo’s entourage by sheer force of will alone.

“WHAT THE _HELL?_ ” Tsunade’s roar silenced them. “What in the hell is going on out here?”

One of the advisors, a thin man with graying hair and a paunch that would do the pregnant Kurenai proud, pointed at Iruka with a quavering hand. “The murderer was trying to escape!” 

Tsunade’s eyes turned as hard as chips of flint. “Really? I don’t see him going anywhere. He’s still standing here, wearing chakra cuffs and trying not to get mauled by idiots. Yeah, _really_ looks like an escape attempt to me.” Disdain and annoyance practically dripped off the words.

Her sarcasm cut through the ruckus and Shizune and the serpent-masked ANBU both relaxed as the group of advisors stopped their efforts to reach the chuunin. 

Tsunade cast a haughty glare at the small cluster. “Be assured, that until this whole mess is sorted out, Umino Iruka will be safely imprisoned. Now, get the hell out of my office!”

Shizune chivvied the now-cowed entourage out the door and into the hall, while Tsunade nodded at the serpent-masked ANBU. “Get Iruka-sensei some tea and then take him to his apartment to pack his things. Take Monkey with you, just to be on the safe side.”

A silent Iruka was escorted out the door. Tsunade watched him go before she felt the whisper of movement at her shoulder. “You do know what that was, correct, Hokage-sama?”

She nodded tightly and resolved that she was going to drink her weight in sake when this was all over. She couldn’t afford to now, not when she needed all of her wits about her. “All too well.” She somberly told the masked ANBU. “This mess is getting nastier by the minute.”

“After all, if he died in an escape attempt, who could prove that he wasn’t the one who killed Makimura?” The voice at her shoulder was a low growl.

“So how many weapons did you count?”

“Seventeen.”

“I must be getting old. I only counted sixteen.”

“Those hairsticks Lady Rikasu was sporting. The wood is from Wave country and poisonous. Those were coated with wax to make them usable, but scratch the wax coating…” He snorted behind his mask. “It’s a very nasty way to die.”

Tsunade sighed and picked up a piece of paper, scrawling something on it in an untidy hand. A whistle summoned one of her messenger hawks. “Take this to the hospital for Sakura.” She told the bird in a low tone, delicately scratching its raised crest.

She went to the window and tossed the bird into the air. “I’m having Sakura make up a kit of as many antidotes as she can, including a few that I don’t even let the ANBU have unless it’s dire. She’ll bring them to you later.” She sighed. “Just in case.”

“Understood.”

“Don’t leave his side under any circumstances. Even if it’s a visitor you trust. The unwitting have been used as assassination tools before.” Tsunade turned to regard him with sober eyes. “Keep him alive until we have this sorted out.”

“As my Hokage commands.” He inclined his head.

A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “If I didn’t fear for your sanity and the safety of those around you, I’d call you back to active service permanently. At least this way I get some respect out of you.”

“Mah, it’s all just another mask, Tsunade-baa-san.”

Chuckling, she swatted at where he had been. “Don’t I know it.”

But he was already gone. Tsunade closed the window and retreated to her office. “Keep him safe,” She whispered to the uncaring air. She pulled out her chair and began to dig through a pile of records one of her spies had just left on her desk. She would find out who had killed Makimura.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Iruka sighed as the transportation jutsu let him and his two silent guardians down in front of his apartment door. Snake nodded at his companion and unlocked the cuffs from Iruka’s wrists. He rubbed at the chafed skin as he regarded the two silent men. “What now?”

Monkey tipped his head. “First you open those clever traps you have on your door, then you pack up what you think you’ll need. Pack well, because you might be a while.”

Iruka nodded dully, sure that he might break apart any minute. He stretched out his recovered chakra and disabled the layers of traps and wards he had on his door. None of them were lethal and all of them were designed to hold a person immobile until they could be dealt with. He had chosen non-lethal traps after the first time Naruto had nearly taken a kunai in the chest.

He opened the door and regarded his two escorts with a jaded eye. “Why did you let me activate my traps before you took me to see the Hokage?”

A swirl of leaves announced the arrival of the third ANBU. “So no one could plant evidence.” He said calmly.

_Or disturb it_ , thought Iruka with just a touch of bitterness, but he kept that thought firmly to himself. The three ANBU remained in the living room of his small apartment, making the space feel even smaller, as Iruka drug a pack out from under boxes of teaching supplies and winter clothes. He packed swiftly, rolling clothes into the smallest possible space and stuffing them into the worn canvas pack. He left his vests and their assortment of weapons undisturbed. After stuffing the last of his underwear in the now bulging pack, he zipped it and pulled a large, flat case from behind the boxes. Opening it, he went to his desk and began sorting papers with a swift hand and a practiced eye. One stack he handed to the monkey-masked ANBU. “Make sure these go to the substitute for my class. It’s the quizzes we had on Friday.” 

The ANBU nodded and, rolling the papers into a tight tube, stowed them inside his armor. Iruka turned his attention back to his papers, packing half-finished lesson plans and other projects in the case. As a final touch, he added a couple of blank lesson planners to the stack and a flat case of pens. He kept from thinking about why he might need them by making sure that anything the substitute might need was rolled into a scroll case and handed off to the ANBU. Finally, he was done.

He wandered into the kitchen and stole a glance into the fridge. He hadn’t done his shopping yet and there was only the last dregs of milk and a few eggs. The eggs would keep and… He glanced over his shoulder at the ANBU and shrugged before drinking the last of the milk straight from the carton. Let them think what they would.

He heard something that might have been a stifled chuckle, but when he looked back, none of the ANBU were even looking in his direction. The one in the snake mask had already shouldered his canvas pack, and since the monkey-masked ANBU was already loaded down with papers for his substitute teacher, the third ANBU effortlessly hoisted the flat case of paperwork. They led him outside and Snake nodded. “Lock it up, Iruka-sensei.”

Iruka obligingly locked the door, but didn’t move to re-arm the traps until the other man nudged him with the corner of his case. “Don’t forget the traps.”

The chuunin blinked disbelievingly at him. He didn’t move until he was nudged again, harder than the first time. Only then did he place a palm against the door and use his chakra to activate his traps. Still moving in a numb haze, he let himself be cuffed again and was swept up in the disorienting feel of someone else’s transportation jutsu.

When he blinked to clear his eyes, he was in the middle of a small courtyard. It was beautiful, if a little overgrown, with a small koi pond under a massive cherry tree. On the flagstones beside the pond there was a disturbing stain that even years of weathering couldn’t disguise the origins of. Sometime in the past, a _lot_ of blood had been spilled there. He turned and recognized the elaborate crest carved on the lintel of the sliding doors, though he had only ever seen it in records. It was the crest of the Hatake family, a swirl of stylized clouds with a lightning bolt splitting them in half.

He knew of the old estate, of course, though it had been sitting empty longer than the Uchiha compound. Hatake Kakashi, the last of what had once been a prominent family, lived in the plain bachelor apartments, much the same as he himself did. Snake set down his bag and with a nod, removed his cuffs. He tucked them into his belt and disappeared, followed by Monkey. When he turned his gaze back to the last remaining ANBU, he saw the man tugging off his hood to reveal a cloud of silver-white hair. Lowering the stylized dog mask that had hidden his features, Hatake Kakashi blinked lazily at him.


	3. Two: An Empty House

“Yo.”

Something in Iruka cracked and he started to laugh weakly, sinking down to sit on the crazed and split flagstone path. “Why am I not surprised?”

Kakashi regarded him like a child might regard an interesting bug.

It took Iruka a moment to gather up enough of his shattered nerves to manage a glare at the jounin. As it was, it was half-hearted at best. “So,” he said after a moment, still sitting on the cold stone. “What did you do to piss Tsunade-sama off enough to deserve this?”

The copy-nin’s visible eyebrow lifted in what Iruka thought was supposed to be an innocent manner. “Mah, I have no idea what you’re talking about, Iruka-sensei.”

Iruka made a sound halfway between a laugh and a cough. “Oh, of course not.” He snorted and rose to his feet, brushing the back of his pants off automatically. “The elite Sharingan Kakashi is _always_ assigned to babysit chuunin schoolteachers accused of murder.” The mockery in his tone was directed at both of them equally.

Kakashi tipped his head as a bird chirped nearby. “Meh, we should go inside, Iruka-sensei.” He said, his low voice suddenly sharp and wary.

Startled, Iruka blinked. “What? Why?”

“We’re about to have visitors.”

Iruka blinked but followed the jounin inside the building, both of them only pausing long enough to slip off their sandals or in Kakashi's case, boots. Kakashi led him down a long hallway to a study. As he turned on the lights, Iruka paused in the first real moment of pleasure he’d had since he’d been woken by ANBU in his bedroom. It was nearly a library, with all the bookcases full of heavy, leatherbound volumes. It smelled wonderfully of leather and paper, that soothing scent that all libraries had. 

He trailed fingers along a row of books, spines smooth under his fingers. It reminded him of home, of the study that had been his mother’s before the kyuubi attack. It was soothing in a strange way, and some part of him that had been wound far too tight since he had woken up, relaxed. Iruka knew he was on the edge, but he took a deep breath and forced himself to relax and enjoy this place that reminded him of happier times. It might be the last enjoyment he would have for a very long time.

“Wait here.” Kakashi said, vanishing almost before Iruka had fully turned to face him. Iruka hesitated and then, unable to resist, lifted a book of off the shelf; taking pleasure in the feel of the oiled leather binding and the rich smell of the ink and paper. For all that the estate had to have been empty since Iruka was just a child, the room was well cared for. There was minimal dust and the bindings of the books did not have the cracked, sad appearance of neglect.

“IRUKA-SENSEI!”

Iruka barely had time to brace himself as an orange and black blur barreled into him. Wiry arms closed around his chest, and he staggered. A strong hand closed over his elbow to steady him. He glanced briefly at Kakashi in thanks before he hugged the teen to his chest. “Hello, Naruto.” He said affectionately, finding a smile for his former student.

“What the hell’s going on, Iruka-sensei? Tsunade-baa-chan said you’d been _arrested!_ ”

Iruka sighed and ran a hand affectionately through sun-yellow locks. “Yes. I’m under house arrest. A dignitary was murdered and since I had had an argument with him, I’m considered a suspect.”

“WHAT? They can’t do that! I’ll –”

“You’ll do nothing, Naruto.” Kakashi said firmly. “The Hokage has her best ANBU looking for the truth. Iruka is safe here.”

A hand swatted the blonde upside the head before he could say something else and Iruka smiled at Sakura, finding the expression came easier this time. “Hello, Sakura-chan.”

“How are you doing, Iruka-sensei?” She asked kindly, her green eyes full of concern.

“I’m fine, Sakura. Really.” Iruka almost meant it. He reached over and ruffled Sakura’s hair, like he had when she was still one of his pre-genin. It hurt to see the worry in those emerald eyes. “I’m sure everything will be fine.” He gave her a warm smile. She reacted to that expression, the same one she’d gotten over a scraped knee or a cut from a practice kunai. The gentle smile that promised that everything would be all right, and like she had then, she instinctively trusted in it. The tension in her lean shoulders eased and she leaned into the strong fingers ruffling her hair.

Iruka sighed and made sure his smile was firmly in place. “I have every faith that the Hokage will manage to solve this. Everything will be fine.” Magic words, those. Every student that had gone through his class knew that when Iruka-sensei said that everything would be fine, it was going to be. He never promised that their parents would come home from dangerous missions, never promised that they would not be injured or maimed, and never promised more than he could give. But when he said everything would be fine… it would be.

He watched subtle signs of tension fade from the two teen’s faces and posture and tugged them over to seats. “It’s okay, really. Kakashi-sensei is here to watch out for me, and I’m safe here.” He glanced up to offer Kakashi a small smile, a little surprised to notice that sometime between commanding him to wait here and returning with Sakura and Naruto, Kakashi had shed everything that might mark him as ANBU. He wore the sleeveless black tank that was attached to his mask and a pair of basic black uniform pants. He somehow looked as though he had been relaxing before the two teenagers had shown up.

Sakura glanced up at Kakashi, green eyes still a little troubled. “Tsunade sent me to bring you this, Kakashi-sensei. She said, just in case.”

Iruka recognized the small case she handed to the jounin at once, though he kept the smile fixed firmly on his face as he teased Naruto about how much he’d grown. An antidote kit, and judging from the troubled look on Sakura’s expressive face, it wasn’t an ordinary one.

“Mah, thank you, Sakura-chan.”

Iruka quickly looked away before the jounin could meet his eyes. He turned his attention to chattering softly with his former students. For a few moments he could pretend that nothing was wrong. He was listening to Sakura describe just how hard it was to perform one of the medical jutsus that Tsunade was teaching her, when the soft clatter of china startled him. They all looked up to see Kakashi standing over them with a tea set on a tray.

Iruka apologized and rose to take it from the copy-nin. Kakashi refused to relinquish it and set about pouring tea for all of them, his single visible eye unreadable. Iruka flushed to be served tea by Hatake Kakashi and accepted his cup with the same pasted-on smile that he’d been wearing since his former students had shown up. He hated this.

Nearly an hour had passed in quiet conversation when Kakashi, who had remained mostly silent during the discussion, rose to his feet with the grace of a lazy cat and looked pointedly at the remaining members of his genin team. “Iruka-sensei will still be here tomorrow. You can visit then.”

Naruto opened his mouth to protest but Sakura clamped a hand over it. “Of course, Kakashi-sensei. We’ll see you later, Iruka-sensei!” She rose and swiftly hugged Iruka, dropping a kiss on his cheek. Blushing slightly, she drew back and looked him in the eye. “Tsunade-sama will get to the truth, Iruka-sensei. You don’t have to worry about it.”

With a last grin, she snagged Naruto and dragged the protesting boy away. Kakashi rose to his feet and used a kunai to cut his thumb. A few hand-signs later and he was holding a disgruntled-looking pug. “I need to talk to Sakura for a moment, Iruka-sensei. Pakkun will stay with you.”

Iruka and the pug looked at each other for a moment after the copy-nin had left the room. Finally Pakkun snorted and looked around. “This is…” His voice trailed off and Iruka could have sworn he winced. “—A surprise.” He finished a little too quickly. “So why are you here, sonny-boy?”

Iruka managed not to wince at the derogatory term and sighed. “Because Hanishi, the Daimyo of Rice Country, thinks I killed his spoiled obnoxious brat of a son. I’m under house arrest.”

“So did you?” Pakkun asked mildly. “Kill him, I mean?”

Iruka shot the pug a dirty look and rose to his feet. “I’m going to find a bathroom, come along or stay, I don’t care either way.”

Pakkun rose to his feet and yawned. “Don’t get your boxers in a bunch. There’s a bathroom at the end of this hall. Follow me.”

The bathroom showed more signs of neglect than the study, but was still in better shape than Iruka expected for the empty estate. He washed his face, staring for a moment at his own hollow eyes in the cracked mirror, and followed the pug back to the study. Kakashi was waiting, and he had Iruka’s packs in hand. “Come on, Sensei. You could probably stand a few hours of sleep, since you were woken rather unceremoniously today.”

Iruka scowled at him, but didn’t dispute the claim. He followed the copy-nin to a bedroom, one that had only one small window that overlooked the same courtyard they had appeared in. The bed was made with fresh linens, still bearing the scent of rosemary in the folds, and the room had been meticulously cleaned. Iruka thought it felt antiseptic, but was too tired to care. 

He watched dully as Kakashi set up an elaborate group of traps on the single window, and was a little surprised to see that they were all meant to stop an intruder from entering, and not to keep someone inside confined.

Kakashi finished his work and turned to face him. “Bath is there,” he said, pointing to a second door. “In case you want to get cleaned up. One of my dogs will be on guard outside, so you’ll have fair warning if somebody comes. Sleep well.”

Iruka managed an acknowledgement and collapsed across the futon as soon as the door shut behind Kakashi. He thought he would lie awake, but somehow sleep had him in its grasp before he even managed to make up his mind on whether or not to take a bath. His last conscious thought was that he hadn’t once thanked Kakashi for his help.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Kakashi regarded the closed door for a long moment as the breathing of the man on the other side evened out into the rhythms of exhausted slumber. Not that the small amount of sedative carefully dusted on the inside of his teacup hadn’t helped that exhaustion along or anything. Pakkun looked up at him.

“Well?” Kakashi asked, his voice kept low.

“I smell blood on him, but it’s faint and he’s bathed since then. Either he didn’t kill anyone or he’s damned good at cleaning up the evidence. You smell more strongly of blood that he does.” Pakkun told him thoughtfully. “But I’d be willing to lay odds that he knows more than he’s saying. There are troubling things in his scent.”

“Eh, like what?” Kakashi lifted the pug onto his shoulder as he summoned three more of his dogs to patrol the estate. They loped around his legs as he walked back to the study to retrieve the tea set. He indulged them with affectionate scratches before he set them to their duty and he headed to the kitchen to carefully wash the sedative-laced teacup.

Pakkun waited until the other dogs were gone before he finally replied. “He smells wrong. I’ve known his scent since you lent me to him that one time. He smells… for lack of a better word… gone.”

Kakashi nearly dropped the tea set and his eye snapped open. Dropping the china unceremoniously on a low table, he lifted the pug from his shoulder. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Pakkun growled at being shaken. “Dammit, boss, I’m not a rag doll! It means just what I said. Iruka-sensei has retreated into himself, and he’s less than all there. He smells like this house does.”

“Explain.” Kakashi growled, disturbed by the pug’s declaration. 

“Tired and empty. Dust and despair.” Pakkun snorted and sneezed. “Don’t ask me to explain it more, because I don’t know how.” Pakkun regarded him evenly from heavy-lidded eyes. “Just keep your eyes open. Because I have a feeling we have more to worry about than just assassins.”


	4. Three: Tempering

Iruka woke with a throbbing head and a foul taste in his mouth that he recognized from the last time he’d been hospitalized. _Kakashi…_ That bastard had drugged him! No wonder he hadn’t put any wards against escape on the windows. Seething, Iruka dragged his uncooperative body out of bed and toward the bath. His small toiletry kit was sitting on the sink and he scowled at it. That stupid ass had drugged him out of his mind enough that he’d slept through another person – a ninja – moving around in the same room!

Clenching his teeth, Iruka forced himself to take deep breaths. When the red had faded from his vision, he showered and performed the rest of his morning ablutions. He dressed swiftly, feeling strangely naked without his flak vest. He didn’t like the sensation. He stalked out the door, and nearly tripped over the gold and white nin-dog lazing in the hall. The dog yawned, pink tongue unfurling, and then tipped his head at Iruka. His shades glinted in the dim light of the hall.

“Where’s your master?” Iruka asked, not in the mood for pleasantries. The gold dog let out a little inquiring whine, and Iruka’s temper flared. He caught the dog by the scruff of the neck and hauled him up until they were eye to eye. “Don’t play with me! I know very well you can talk. Where’s Kakashi?”

“Kitchen,” A voice answered, though it didn’t come from the dog dangling helplessly in his grip. Iruka looked down at a gray mutt sitting at his feet, struck by the strangely pale eyes regarding him from beneath a crest of darker gray-brown fur. Shivering a little, Iruka lowered the other dog and had to fight not to flinch guiltily when the smoke-colored dog nuzzled the gold one solicitously.

When the dog he’d manhandled let out a soft whine, Iruka slumped and dropped into a crouch to ruffle soft fur. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you. But your master didn’t have to drug me.”

The gold and white dog leaned into the caress. “No,” he answered at last in a rough, gravelly voice. “But the boss seldom does things the sensible way.”

The ash-colored dog chuckled and shoved in close, obviously hoping for his own share of the caresses, which Iruka obligingly gave. “When has he ever been sensible?” He laughed. “You’ll have to forgive him, Iruka-sensei. The boss… well, he does what’s best for the pack.”

His companion snorted and shoved the smaller dog with a shoulder. “Hush.” He tipped up his head to regard the chuunin from behind his glasses. “So you want me to show you the way to the kitchen?”

Iruka scowled at the reminder of the copy-nin and rose to his feet. “Show me.”

The two dogs took off down the hallway, tails swishing. Iruka had to hurry to keep up. 

He smelled the kitchen before he saw it. His stomach growled hard enough to hurt and he was reminded that he’d had nothing to eat since lunch of the previous day. There was sausage on the stove and a box full of biscuits from the bakery near the academy. Coffee steamed in a carafe and there was a plate of cheese on the table. But there was _no_ sign of the copy-nin. 

_Leave it to that bastard not to be here when I want to kick his ass from here to Snow Country._ Growling under his breath, Iruka made himself a cup of coffee and several sausage biscuits.

He discovered quickly that nin-dogs were not above begging for scraps. Of course, they were far more clever in their ploys than an average dog. Iruka was reluctantly smiling at their antics by the time he’d finished eating. Halfway through his third cup of coffee, he heard footsteps in the hall.

He assessed the dogs with a glance, knowing that they would sense danger before he did. They were both relaxed, curled together on the floor like oversized puppies. Iruka stretched out his senses and brushed against the familiar chakra of the copy-nin. The sound hesitated outside the door and Iruka found amusement in thinking that Kakashi was hesitant to face him.

“It’s rude to linger in doorways, Kakashi-sensei.”

Kakashi shuffled through the door, sheepishly scratching the back of his head and giving Iruka his infamous curved eye smile.

Iruka just snorted. “Come off it. I’m not buying the innocent act.”

“Meh, I don’t know what you’re talking about, Iruka-sensei.” Shrugging, Kakashi was the perfect image of his normal lazy jounin self.

Iruka rose to his feet and rounded on Kakashi. “You fucking _drugged_ me, you asshole!”

The jounin shrugged. “Meh, is that all you're upset about? Tsunade-sama suggested it, so you’d get some sleep instead of staying up all night fretting.” He gave Iruka that lazy one-eyed smile again. “Worked, didn’t it?”

Iruka gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to punch the jounin square in the face. “What if I didn’t want to sleep yet? I’m the one under suspicion of murder. I should have some say in whether I can stay up _‘fretting’_ about it or not!”

“I thought you might need your beauty sleep, sensei.”

Iruka snarled low under his breath. “Shut up, Hatake.”

Kakashi smirked behind the mask. “There were other ways to put you to sleep, sensei, ranging from the not so pleasant to the…” His voice turned suggestive and he pulled his little orange book out of his pocket. “— _extremely_ pleasant and physically demanding ways. The drug was easier.”

Iruka glared at the nonchalant jounin and curled his fingers around his coffee cup so tightly they ached. He would not hit the ass. He would not hit him. He would not…

Kakashi flipped a few pages in his book. “You know, Jiraiya always wrote that nothing would help a damsel in distress get a good night’s sleep more than a good –”

Iruka exploded. “ _Bastard!_ ”

Kakashi dodged the flung coffee cup, though he didn’t manage to escape the coffee that was still in it. The cup shattered against the wall behind him. Iruka growled under his breath, muttering about how he’d show Kakashi a ‘damsel in distress’ and the cup was soon followed by the plate that had held the sliced cheese and then any and all of its fellow china pieces within Iruka's reach. And when all the poor porcelain soldiers had met their end against the kitchen wall behind Kakashi, the furniture was called to duty. Iruka was red in the face while the copy-nin dodged every attack.

Finally when the chair he had been sitting lay split and splintered beside Kakashi did Iruka finally stop to catch his breath. And when he calmed enough to really _look_ at what he just did, Iruka froze, panting. _Oh, fuck! I just threw half a kitchen at one of the deadliest men in Fire Country._

Kakashi blinked, coffee still trickling down his face to be absorbed by the dark fabric mask and tilted his head like a curious dog. “Feel better, sensei?”

Iruka gaped until a strange sound filled his ears. A weird cross between a howl and a series of choked-off yips; he tracked the noise to the two nin-dogs that had been lounging on the floor. They were convulsed in what he now recognized as laughter. Iruka sagged and stared blankly until Kakashi shook his head and upper body like a dog shaking water out of its coat, spattering him, the nin-dogs and the half demolished kitchen with drops of coffee.

The sheer oddness of the sight finally caused something in him to break. Against any remnant of better judgment that he might have had, Iruka began to laugh. The uncontrollable laughter lasted until his sides ached and he had to sink to the ground or fall. “Damn you, yes – yes, I do.”

“Then it was worth getting doused in coffee, which, by the way, you should use less sugar in.” Kakashi’s smile was visible through the thin, damp fabric of his mask and Iruka stared at him for a long moment, unsure of whether or not the jounin was teasing him.

“You try teaching thirty-plus pre-genin hellions without sugar and _then_ tell me that.” Iruka finally said, fighting not to let his lips curve into a smile.

“I’d sooner face every single missing-nin in the bingo book without weapons.” Kakashi said flatly, though there was a trace of merriment in his storm-gray eye.

“Not sure how well that would work.”

“But I’d have a better chance of survival.”

Iruka chuckled and slumped. “Kami, I don’t even want to thing about what those kids will get up to when I – without proper supervision.”

Iruka knew Kakashi didn’t miss the sudden rewording, and and no doubt wondered what it meant. But he didn’t ask. “So Shikamaru doesn’t qualify as proper supervision?”

Iruka snorted and fetched himself another mug of coffee, finding a cup on the counter that hadn’t suffered from his wrath. Kakashi raised an eyebrow, clearly noticing that Iruka used much less sugar this time. “That boy may be brilliant, but he’s lazy, and not up to teaching a class that has Konohamaru and his cronies, an Aburame and three Inuzuka’s. Not a chance. Tsunade-sama will have to rescue him before the week’s out.”

“You should have more faith in your students, Iruka-sensei. Both current and former.”

“I have faith that they’ll cause chaos and property damage.” Iruka deadpanned

This time it was Kakashi who snorted a laugh. He grinned at the chuunin. “Well, sensei, being that we have nothing better to do and you've already managed to warm up, " He nodded at the pile of debris on the floor. Iruka tried not to blush. “—how about sparring with me? Taijutsu only, no genjutsu or ninjutsu.”

Iruka frowned at him. “I’m not a match for you.”

“But you should keep in practice.” The humor had dropped out of his voice and was replaced with a seriousness that made a shiver run down Iruka's spine. 

“Fine.”

They proceeded out to the enclosed courtyard. Iruka noted three chakra signatures, just on the edge of his senses. A quick glance upward garnered a glimpse of an ANBU perched on the roof of a nearby building. To Iruka’s surprise, the man lifted a hand in a friendly wave, and then returned his attention to the streets outside the estate.

“Kakashi-sensei?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Kakashi sighed, still wiping coffee from his hair with a damp towel. “Don’t you get it by now? Tsunade-sama is looking out for you. She believes in your innocence, even if that pack of jackals doesn’t.”

Iruka frowned grimly at him. “She’s playing a dangerous game. Playing politics against one of the daimyo’s is nothing to fool around with.”

Kakashi tossed the damp towel over his head. “Have some faith in her, like she has faith in you. Your Hokage believes in you enough to play political games.”

“So this house arrest?” Iruka’s voice was strangely fatalistic, and it made Kakashi frown in concern, remembering what the Hokage had said to him last night. It was less of a question than a bland comment, simply meant to keep the conversation going, and somehow that was more worrying.

Kakashi nodded. “Is as much for your safety as it is to appease those thirsty for your blood. Don’t tell me you didn’t think that was just a little bit of overreaction in Tsunade’s office the other night?” The jounin asked, removing his vest and setting it aside. He dropped his shuriken pouch on top of it, looking back up to judge Iruka’s expression. “That was intended to be an attempt on your life. They didn’t even wait until you were out of one of the most heavily guarded places in the entire village.” 

Iruka shook his head, not in denial, but confusion. “I was so numb, I don’t even think I would have noticed Gai-sensei pulling off Naruto’s sexy-no-jutsu.”

Kakashi shuddered. “And that was a mental image I could have done without entirely.”

Iruka laughed at the appalled look in the copy-nin’s eye, as Kakashi had intended for him to do. Kakashi could see Iruka was trying hard to push the unpleasant thoughts away. 

“Well, are we sparring or talking?” Iruka growled at last.

Kakashi dropped into a fighting stance, and let himself fall into the familiar rhythms of sparring with another person.

Kakashi watched both Iruka’s form and footwork as he analyzed what he knew about the man. It didn’t add up to the man he’d drugged insensate last night. Frowning, he studied Iruka’s face, looking for signs of… something, anything that would clue him into the man’s current state of mind. The outburst he’d baited out of the man had been necessary, a release of stress that could have been dangerous if kept bottled up. But there was no way of telling what else he was holding inside. 

The chuunin’s expression was one of concentration and his brown eyes were clear… but strangely distant, as though his thoughts were somewhere else entirely. Kakashi pulled a kunai from a sleeve sheathe and tossed it at Iruka’s foot.

That brought the focus right back. Suddenly Iruka was back in the present, and furious. “Kakashi, what the hell was that for?” Bark-brown eyes snapped fire as the chuunin scooped up the kunai.

“You were drifting, sensei. Carelessness like that will get you killed.” Smirking, Kakashi drew another kunai and held it in a classic stance, waggling the fingers of his other hand in a clear invitation to attack.

Iruka snorted and flung himself forward, focused now. The small courtyard rang with the clash of metal on metal and the slap of sandaled feet on the cracked flagstones; interspersed with occasional small grunts from one or the other of the two men as they scored a hit on their opponent. Iruka moved with fluid grace and a skill that Kakashi couldn’t find fault with. He wasn’t of a level to take on a jounin and win, but Kakashi would bet on him holding one off long enough for reinforcements to get to him. And if he had the element of surprise on his side, Kakashi wouldn’t bet on the jounin. But what impressed Kakashi most of all was Iruka's considerable arsenal of dirty tricks, including a couple that he would have to remember for later use.

The caw of a raven brought Kakashi’s head up and he signaled Iruka to stop.

Iruka paused, panting harshly. “What is it?”

“Not sure.” Kakashi listened as another caw split the air followed by the croak of a jackdaw. “I think we’d better take things inside. Uuhei, Shiba, stay with Iruka-sensei.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Kakashi vanished, leaving Iruka staring after him as the two dogs separated from the pack that had casually been watching their sparring. They pressed against his legs, the red and white one growling low under its breath. “Inside, pup.” Her voice was stern, underscored by the rumble of the growl in her throat.

Iruka looked down at the kunai still in his hand and tucked it into the waistband of his pants where it would be easy to reach. He had a bad feeling that he might need it.

A few moments later Kakashi returned. Iruka noticed the tense set of his shoulders. "Seems like our sparring is done for the moment, Iruka-sensei. Ibiki is waiting for you inside."

Iruka swallowed and followed the copy-nin back into the old house, the two dogs still pressing close to his legs. It was strangely comforting to have them there. He briefly rested his hand on the taller dog’s head in thanks.

Ibiki was waiting in the ruined kitchen, and Iruka had to swallow back a case of nerves. Somehow the devastation of the kitchen fit around the tall, scarred man to make him seem even more menacing.

“Iruka-sensei.” Ibiki greeted in an utterly neutral tone.

Iruka felt his heart stutter a beat. He’d been subject to the usual training at the hands of the T&I department and the thought of having to undergo their questioning for real was a frightening prospect. His stomach lurched and he was suddenly grateful for the warm presence of the dogs by his feet. Even Kakashi’s reserved presence was a comfort, standing slightly in front of him.

That brief sense of comfort was not to last for long.

“Ibiki-san.”

Ibiki acknowledged his greeting with a grunt and a sideways look at Kakashi. “Come here. We have someplace to be.” 

Ibiki produced a pair of the chakra cuffs and Iruka felt his heart sink. Trying hard not to show his resentment, Iruka offered his wrists, feeling the low growls of the dogs rumbling through where their sides were resting against his legs. The snick of the cuffs closing around his wrists was a disturbingly final sound.


End file.
